


Well Worn Paths, and How Not to Take Them

by TRASHCAKE



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Hinted side pairings - Freeform, Internet friends to lovers, M/M, Manic Pixie Dream Hyunjin, Minho Chews Entirely Too Much Gum, Realization, Skateboarding, Slice of Life, The power of friendship, gratuitous 90s references, its a 90s AU you bet this fucker is meta as all hell, they're all good boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26895607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRASHCAKE/pseuds/TRASHCAKE
Summary: 1999 was one hell of a year.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix
Comments: 46
Kudos: 198





	Well Worn Paths, and How Not to Take Them

**Author's Note:**

> A demon (Freddie) whispered an idea into my dreams (Twitter DMs) and my goblin brain turned it into a 90s AU. 
> 
> Go figure. 
> 
> cw// descriptions of piercings, mentions of vomit. Nothing is too explicit, though.

Jisung is hardly the best skater in the world. He’ll tell anyone who listens that he kinda sucks, but will still manage to impress them with the tricks he’s learnt out of years of practice and boredom. 

His friends are a little better, probably the best skaters seen in their suburban skate park, but Chan and Changbin really aren’t the Tony Hawk’s they think they are. But still, to the group of young kids and teenagers who watch them in awe, managing to get down a grind rail without fully stacking it or breaking a bone seems pretty impressive. 

The skate park near Jisung’s house might not be a world stage, and the tricks performed there might not be grand and gravity-defying but it smells like concrete and freedom. 

It’s Jisung’s favourite place in the world. 

Perched on top of the halfpipe, Jisung blows his hair out of his eyes like all the cool teen heartthrobs do in movies. Spurred on by his friends’ cheers, he drops in with ease, picking up speed as he flies towards the top of the opposite side of the pipe. 

There are kids watching, some older girls who think Chan is cute hanging around under the trees. He attempts, then lands a frontside 180, only stumbling a little bit over the hems of his jeans as his board rolls to a stop. 

“Sick, dude!” Changbin calls out. He’s easily spotted, both in the park and in general, by his patchy blue hair, and the ever-constant spikes he’s styled it into. He got the idea after watching SLC Punk! and will not hear a word of how he’s missed the entire point of the film. 

One of Chan’s admirers blows Jisung a kiss. He flushes, keeps his eyes on the ground. God, he’s so _bad_ with girls, and barely interested in them to boot. He’s more uncomfortable with the attention than someone who revels in it. He’s got an inkling as to what it means.

How he managed to find— and keep— a girlfriend during high school is beyond him. 

He should probably send Yeji an email when he remembers. See how her life is going on the other side of the country, or something. Be the friend he said he was going to be when they broke up, again, via email, just over a year ago. 

Chan is off chatting with his fan club, which has now grown to include a bunch of pre-teens who want skating tips. He’s got that cool big brother look to him, but with enough sexy edge that it keeps his bed warm and his list of admirer’s long. 

Jisung has always wanted to be like Chan. 

“You’re getting good, bro,” Changbin hooks an arm around his shoulders. It causes the wheels of Jisung’s board to hit, then dig uncomfortably into his hip bone. Just another bruise he’s gained over the course of an afternoon. “Soon they’ll be here for you.” 

Changbin points at the girls, wiggling his fingers in greeting when one of them spots them. Jisung tries to smile, and it probably looks as forced as it feels. 

“Not today, my good man,” Jisung wriggles out from Changbin’s hold and finally eases the pain blooming from his hip. “I have other ladies who need me, _and_ they’re offering monetary compensation for my company.” 

“Your customers don’t count,” Changbin deadpans. 

“Whatever,” Jisung trills. 

He deserves the punch he receives to his arm. 

“He doesn’t look right without the red hair,” Changbin comments, gesturing to Chan as they pass him by. 

He’s had to invest in some black dye, what with his new job starting when the holidays end. Teachers don’t have long, unnaturally red hair, so he’s had to colour and cut it into something still stylish, but far more conservative than the Chan they’re used to. 

“Age comes for us all,” Jisung nods, solemnly. “But it’s gonna come for you fuckers, first.” 

Jisung has spent his life following in Changbin’s footsteps, who in turn has been following in Chan’s. A lifelong game of follow the leader, spanning from their first meeting as kids that still continues well into the start of their adult lives. 

Chan skates, so do they. Chan decides he wants to be a teacher, Changbin and Jisung follow suit. They do things in their own way, but it’s still because Chan did it first. 

At least Jisung’s other hobbies are things he found on his own, even though his friends find them a little pointless, if not juvenile. 

Speaking of juvenile, Changbin still sticks to his childhood tradition of walking Jisung to the edge of the skate park as he leaves. Old instructions from their parents over a decade ago, it’s as comforting as it is humiliating to be escorted to the street like his eight-year-old self once was. 

In fact, there’s a worn path through the grass that tracks their movement, constant use crushing any chance for new sprigs of grass to grow. 

Jisung wonders if it’s a metaphor. 

“Got your uniform?” Changbin asks as they arrive at the sidewalk. Eight-year-old Jisung would have turned left and headed towards the suburbs. Twenty-year-old Jisung shifts right, heading into town in the direction of his work. 

“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” Jisung gestures to the Pokemon-themed backpack on his back, old and worn from use and covered in scribbled graffiti. 

Changbin nods at him, before offering a middle finger salute and wordlessly breaking off into a jog, undoubtedly going to join Chan in chatting up the group of girls while Jisung unlocks VCR boxes for a night. 

Jisung sighs, starts his own jog, and jumps straight back onto his board. 

The wheels click obnoxiously along the cracks in the pavement.

\------- 

Jisung likes movies. He really, _really_ likes movies. Sometimes he likes to imagine that he’s the protagonist of a critically acclaimed coming of age story, but then he realises his life is horrifically boring and he’s hardly leading man material, and stops the fantasy there.

If Jisung _were_ some sort of teen heartthrob, however, his comic relief side character would be played by Minho. 

His manager at Blockbuster, a final year film student filled with too much knowledge and not enough care, Minho’s smart mouth constantly pops gum and talks shit— _and_ he manages to keep his job in the process. 

He’s half the reason why Jisung genuinely enjoys his job, the other half being the faulty camera above the register that allows him to swipe candy and spare cash for the staff room vending machine whenever he wants a Coke on his break. 

He’s also the reason why Jisung picked up a film elective last semester, and why he’s considering a total career change. No one knows about that last one, still a decision Jisung has yet to fully form into a proper idea past the idealisation. 

“ _The Thing_?” Minho raises an eyebrow, pops his gum. “That’s your recommendation for the week?” 

“It’s a classic,” Jisung defends his choice while tapping his fingers on the counter, a nervous habit. “Besides, _you_ , were the one who told me to watch it.” 

“I totally did,” Minho smiles, flashes of purple visible between his teeth. “But it’s totally _not_ family-friendly.” 

“I—” 

“—which is why I’m proud of you for doing it.” 

The store owner likes for the staff to pick a film each to recommend, something in the longer rental section to encourage both the inclusion of more hires (and thus more money), but also a higher chance for the customer to forget appropriate return dates and generate a fine. 

Minho is as anti-establishment as he can be while working for a corporation, so he tends to suggest films that could cost him his job, instead of the G Rated family comedies that their boss encourages. 

Jisung fondly remembers the time he tried to get I Spit On Your Grave available at their humble suburban store, much to the disgust of their absentee owner. Not even a film he likes, nor enjoys, he just found humour in the chaos of his request. 

“Can I get some service around here?” 

Minho all but hisses as he goes back to sorting the tapes from the return box, leaving Jisung to deal with the customer on his own. 

“That depends,” Jisung snarks, “you gonna rent something good tonight, or what?” 

“Hella,” he drawls, before depositing a bunch of tapes from his arms onto the blue bench. “Picked up your rec while I’m at it.” 

Hyunjin is an interesting soul, and someone that comes through the Blockbuster every Friday night without fail. Still stuck in his grunge phase, he owns more Nirvana shirts than one person should. His taste in movies ranges from new releases to whatever Minho and Jisung tell him to watch, but always with some sort of dumb comedy to round out the selection. 

“You’ll hate it, man,” Jisung scans his loyalty card, one completely free of any mark. Hyunjin seems like the type to keep the tapes he’s rented and never return, and yet his record is spotless. 

“Great, can’t wait,” Hyunjin lounges on the counter like he owns it, flinging bags of candy onto the surface to be put through along with his movies. Jisung purposely only scans one of them into the system. “I did like Scream, though, thanks.” 

“Oh snap, really?” Jisung pauses in surprise. Hyunjin is never usually one for horror, but he watches them for something to complain about during his weekly visits. “Didn’t think you would.” 

“Then why did you tell me to watch it, asshole?” Hyunjin grumbles, taking the plastic bag containing his rentals and candy with a scowl. 

“Because your reactions are funny.” 

“You should watch me react in real-time, then.” 

It’s late, nearly closing time. The earlier rush of people has long since gone, leaving just the staff and Hyunjin in the store. Silence falls, only to be broken by Minho’s amused pop of gum and the tapes he dumps out onto the counter. 

“Uh…” 

“Not like, not like, in a gay way or whatever,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. Jisung bites back a flinch. “Just you seem, like, cool. Funny.” 

“Or whatever,” Jisung replies, monotone. “It’s cool, dude, I know you’re not hitting on me.” 

“Sick,” Hyunjin nods. Their relationship ties itself back together as Hyunjin swipes the last pack of Minho’s favourite gum, staring Jisung right in the eyes as he does so. “You got MSN?” 

Jisung, in fact, _does_ , and he cautiously writes his embarrassing email address on the back of a receipt for Hyunjin to add later. 

He leaves the store with the jingle of his numerous belt chains and a wave, Minho frowning after him as he goes. Jisung expects the worst, a snark here and a slur there, God knows he’s heard them all before. 

“Did he take the last pack of grape gum?” Minho asks, instead. 

Jisung visibly deflates, before nodding mutely. 

“That _motherfucker_.” 

\------ 

Jisung’s parents can only afford one car and his work schedule doesn’t allow him to borrow it all that often, so he’s stuck skateboarding home for forty-five minutes, the final ten being an arduous walk up the excessively large hill that Jisung’s family home rests at the peak of. 

Minho has his own car, a gift from his parents, and he’s kind enough to trade Jisung’s company for a ride home. Cuts about half an hour and some sore calf muscles out of Jisung’s midnight equation, and he’s eternally thankful whenever it happens. 

Tonight just so happens to be one of those nights, and Jisung rummages through Minho’s CD wallet for appropriate driving music. He sees a couple of the mixtapes he’s made for his coworker over the years, the Sharpie labels almost worn away due to use. 

It’s not the kinda night for the fruits of Jisung’s Napster endeavours, so he selects a beat-up copy of Korn’s Follow the Leader, and skips straight to Freak on a Leash. 

“Again?” Minho spits his used gum out the window of his car, right onto the ground in the parking lot. A small pile is building up in Minho’s usual spot, but no one has dared to comment on it, yet. 

“It’s a good album,” Jisung shrugs. He grins, takes a fresh piece of gum from Minho’s stash and rolls down the window. “Besides, _you_ were the one who bought it.” 

Minho should be another point in a pattern for Jisung— an older guy, followed around, word taken as law. From the outside, he’s just another Chan, another Changbin, but it’s _different_. 

It’s equal. 

Jisung gets into Zelda because he spots Minho playing it on his Gameboy Color one day, Minho returns the favour after spotting Jisung’s worn Pokemon backpack and grabs himself a copy of Yellow, wanting to see what all the fuss is about. 

A Meowth plushie sits on the dashboard of Minho’s old car, now. Covered in dust and cigarette ash, Jisung wipes the grime away in contemplation. 

“Doing anything tonight?” Minho asks, lighting up a smoke and taking a deep inhale. Sometimes he offers one to Jisung. Sometimes he takes it. Minho’s actions are all so very sporadic. 

“Meeting someone on MSN,” Jisung doesn’t offer any further information. 

“Girl?” 

“No.” 

Minho hums. 

“Just a friend I made on a chat room, he’s not weird or anything,” Jisung scrambles. He doesn’t know why he’s scrambling. 

Minho releases a stream of smoke through pursed lips, watches as it billows out into the night air. 

“I believe you.” 

That’s what Jisung likes about Minho. He doesn’t care. Or if he does, it’s not about what other people care about. Chan and Changbin think chat rooms are for predators, Pokemon is for kids, Korn and Manson are sell outs. 

The juxtaposition is jarring. 

\------

Jisung muffles a curse as he drops his keys. His parents are asleep, but they’ve been kind enough to leave the porch light on, as they do every time Jisung has a closing shift. It doesn’t stop his butterfingers, or the anxiety of having someone watching him from the driveway. 

Minho doesn’t leave until Jisung is safely inside. He says something about checking properly for incoming traffic on Jisung’s death trap of a hillside, but he knows it's out of some sort of misplaced concern. 

The lock sticks, then gives, and Jisung goes tumbling through the door to his house. He waves at Minho, who takes it as his cue to leave. 

Jisung sighs. 

He flicks the light switch, makes a pitstop by the landline to remove the phone line, hooking up the internet cable while he’s there. That’s the rule in his house, and so many houses like his: no internet while people are awake, because what happens if someone needs to make a phone call? 

But it’s close to midnight, and no one will need to call or be called, so Jisung has free range over the connection for the few hours he can get away with it. His father might grumble a bit if he’s up at 6am and finds Jisung still awake, but so long as he makes it to work on time, his holiday sleeping habits aren’t much of a hassle. 

The ride to his house has him in the mood for more Korn, so he pulls out his own copy of Follow the Leader and presses play on his Discman. This time he doesn’t skip the first track, instead waiting patiently by his computer for the internet to connect. 

He’s got his speakers turned off so the ungodly noise doesn’t wake his family, Jisung pulls his legs to his chest as he waits. The connection box closes, and he scrambles to open MSN. He doesn’t have many people added, an accepted request from Hyunjin adding another person to his list of offline friends. 

There’s only one green dot, but it doesn’t matter too much, because that’s exactly who Jisung has been waiting all day to talk to. 

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_JISUNG_  
_JISUNG_  
_JISUNG_

The messages appear in the chatbox rapidly, and Jisung smiles to himself. 

**~*~J15UNG~*~**  
_I AM HOME_

Jisung met Felix on some dumb chat room over a year ago and was immediately suspicious of him. A kid from his town that just so happens to like the things that he does, _and_ their birthdays are only a day apart? 

Sounds just like one of those weirdos that his parents and friends have been warning him about on the internet. 

But Jisung stuck with him, just to see what would happen. 

It’s the best thing he’s ever done. 

They’ve swapped emails, links to Geocities accounts, spoken on the phone. Their interests are so similar, they’re often finding the same things at the same time and sharing them simultaneously with a laugh. Destined besties, Felix calls them. He forces Jisung to have matching MSN display names and pictures with him. 

But sometimes Jisung has Felix’s Geocities account open while they talk, just to stare at the lone, old picture of Felix embedded into the site. 

He knows what it means. 

Felix is a cute boy. Cute in the way that Nick Carter is, eye-catching in the same manner as Johnny Depp was in A Nightmare on Elm Street. He’s interested in Felix the way he was when Yeji confessed to him, age sixteen.

It’s a confusing feeling. He’s spent many late nights typing “what does liking boys and girls mean?” into the Ask Jeeves and Google search bars and not finding much. Bisexual, says the 5th result. 

It feels… not right, but enough for now. Yeji is wonderful, Yeji is pretty. Jisung spent his formative years being attracted to her, but not feeling much for her romantically. It’s weird, it’s confusing. 

It’s not something he can really talk about. 

So he doesn’t. 

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_UR HOME_  
_TELL MI ABOUT UR DAY!!!!!!!!!_

Jisung shelves that thought, right back where it came from. His crisis is for another time, another late night of secrecy shared only between Jeeves and himself.

\------ 

The best thing about Changbin is his workplace. He’s a waiter at an excessively cute cafe, pastel themed and dessert focused. His uniform is ridiculously white, which only makes the bright blue of his hair stand out further. 

He bitches and complains about how hard the stain removal process is, and Jisung joins Chan in hiding a snicker behind his hand each time it comes up in conversation. 

The food is pretty good, catering to Jisung’s sweet tooth and Chan’s caffeine addiction, so when they’re not all available for a daytime skate, they linger way past their welcome at one of the corner tables. 

For once, Chan isn’t chasing tail while at the cafe. Probably because the staff are all male for the shift, one of them being a familiar face. Jisung went to school with Jaemin, met him again at a party after graduation and after Yeji, made out with him while hidden behind a bush in the backyard of their old soccer captain.

He’s a familiar face that Jisung really doesn’t want to see again. 

His order is slipped across the table with little more than a nod. Jisung notices the stud in his right ear lobe and freezes. 

Chan seems to notice too, but says nothing until Jaemin is out of earshot. He’s got tact, and Jisung is thankful. The last thing he wants is a scene. 

“Right side is the gay side, yeah?” He asks, sipping at his coffee. 

“How the fuck would I know?” Jisung replies, probably a little too defensively. Chan doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn’t call Jisung out on it. 

The conversation shifts, their feet rolling their skateboards back and forth beneath the table. The old manager would tell them off for such behaviour, but that’s Changbin’s job now, so he doesn’t say a word. 

(He does, however, threaten to make them clean the floor if their wheels leave a mark. It’s a threat he’s acted on more than once.)

Something slams against the window, startling Jisung and Chan out of their discussion. It’s Hyunjin, whose face is pressed almost comically against the glass. He waves at Jisung once he’s noticed. 

“Friend?” Chan asks. 

“Yeah, a recent development.” 

Jisung only has to mutter his affirmation before Chan is motioning for Hyunjin, and what seems to be his own friends, into the cafe. 

Hyunjin points to himself in mock surprise, feigns a swoon and blows Chan a kiss. His friends laugh, trailing behind him. 

The tips of Chan’s ears turn bright red. 

From somewhere behind them Changbin groans at the idea of having to do work. 

The new group sweep into the cafe in a whirlwind of noise and commotion, clinking chains and loud voices making their presence known. There’s only three of them, but they make enough chatter for six. 

Jisung loves them all already.

He and Hyunjin have been speaking sporadically on MSN and at length when Hyunjin comes in for his weekly movie rental. He mentions friends, not by name, but assumes the people he’s joined by must be the subject of some of his stories. 

They’re introduced as Jeongin and Seungmin, and they readily step into the left off conversation, where Chan happily tells them about this brand new band he’s discovered. 

“They’re called Slipknot,” he says excitedly. Seungmin and Jeongin hang on his every word. Hyunjin, on the other hand, also owns the album and adds his input here and there. 

“Have you listened to Scissors all the way through?” He leans across the table in the same way he leans across Jisung’s counter at work. “There’s a hidden track at the end.” 

Chan’s eyes widen in surprise, scrambling for the Discman tucked into his jacket’s inner pocket. He spends the next twenty minutes with one side of his headphones on his ears, the others tuned into the conversation that blossoms around him. 

Jisung discovers that Seungmin is his age as well, and someone with a similar taste in video games. They’re halfway through a discussion on Pokemon rumours when Chan pauses, mumbles an apology for appearing rude, and pulls the headphones on properly. 

Hyunjin smiles to himself, and Jisung assumes he must have stumbled upon the hidden track.

“Thank you,” Chan reaches across the table to take Hyunjin’s hand in his own. “This changed my life, man.” 

“Are you finished?” Changbin interrupts, hip checking Chan as he passes by. He nearly falls face-first into the table. Jisung and the others find it nothing short of hilarious. 

Hyunjin sticks out his hand and introduces himself to Changbin as “a friend, of sorts,” before commenting on his hair. 

“Very SLC Punk! of you, I like it,” he beams. Changbin shouts at the approval of his hair’s inspiration. 

Jisung rolls his eyes. 

No one he knows seems to have gotten the point.

\------ 

Felix is busy. Jisung already knows this, their schedules discussed in advance so they know when to commandeer the phone lines in order to talk. It’s funny, the way they could simply exchange phone numbers and call each other. But there’s something so fun about the almost-secrecy of it all. 

Which is why, when Hyunjin asks if he’s free, Jisung can say with confidence that he is. 

“Sick,” he wrangles Jisung into a one-armed hug, waving goodbye to his friends and to Chan. “‘cuz I’m a scaredy-cat and I need someone to watch Blair Witch with me.” 

“You rent horror movies from me every fucking week, man,” Jisung points out. Hyunjin fixes him with a look. 

“Because you and your friend keep telling me to.”

He says it so simply, like he has no choice in the matter. And maybe, in that weird head of his, he feels like he doesn’t have a say in his own movie rental choices. It’s nice to hear that someone values his opinion, even though Jisung and Minho point out every horror film to come through their door as more of a joke than anything else. 

Friendship with Hyunjin comes easily and with a lot of amusement on Jisung’s end. They scream their way through Blair Witch, even though Jisung has seen it dozens of times and knows each new scare like the back of his hand. 

It’s just fun. Casual. The raw, emotionally draining ending of the movie seems a lot funnier when Hyunjin is laughing beside him. 

The first tangible friend he’s made of his own accord and not through circumstance. 

Jisung is still gigging when they’re on their collective, hyperinflated guess of a 30th watch through of Austin Powers, when Hyunjin extends his legs and deposits his feet straight onto Jisung’s lap. 

He’s been curled up the entire time, and Jisung assumes he must be feeling a little more comfortable now. He thinks nothing of it, because he’s done the same thing to Chan and Changbin a million times before. 

“Still not hitting on you,” Hyunjin mumbles. His face is squished up against his arm as he speaks. “My legs are just far longer than yours.” 

Jisung whacks him on the ankle in response. 

“No duh,” Jisung shrugs. “I do this to my other friends all the time. I’m not, like, trippin’ or anything.” 

“Stop trying to be cool.” 

Hyunjin kicks him, Jisung laughs. 

Balance is restored, but for some reason, Jisung feels like he’s been read like an open book.

\------ 

_Coming Out_ is a phrase Jisung has started to see being thrown around a lot more, lately. He’s not sure if it’s happening in a higher concentration in 1999 or if Jisung has spent the past few months paying attention to it. 

He can’t get a proper gauge on anyone’s feelings about it all. His parents seem accepting of anti-discrimination bills but scared of AIDs, Chan and Changbin look for right-sided earrings in boys that come to visit Jaemin at work. 

They never explain why. 

Jisung has never heard the phrase bisexual said out loud, much less admitted to anyone else that it seems to fit his description. 

He intends on changing that. 

Logging onto the old chat room he once met Felix through, he finds a stranger. Someone without a connection to his life in case shit hits the fan. He needs to say something, tell anyone, before he’s tempted to walk into town and scream it from the top of his lungs. 

The person he finds is a woman in her 40s, living on the other side of the country. 

She laments that she’s old enough to be his mother. 

He tells her his woes. 

Jisung feels bad for a moment, offloading all his problems onto some stranger. Especially when Felix’s chat stays ignored and unopened in his browser's window. 

He just needs someone to vent to. 

Hypothetically, Felix would be the ideal person. Close enough to know him personally, but separated enough that there would be no consequence if he were to find out. He doesn’t know what Jisung’s last name is, nor does he even know what Jisung looks like. 

They went to different schools, have different friends. The record shop that Felix works in is on the other side of town, so they’re unlikely to accidentally run into each other. If Jisung tells Felix and he reacts badly, there’s no real-world consequence. 

Except for Jisung’s broken heart. 

Even if Felix takes it well, there’s still the very likely and yet still worst-case scenario of Felix not being at least somewhat the same. He could only like girls. And God, he wouldn’t blame them for liking him back. 

He’s got _freckles_ for fuck’s sake. 

They haunt Jisung’s dreams. 

**08071954**  
_you’re done now?_  
_it’s all nice and off your chest, kid?_

**jikachu**  
_yes_  
_sorry ma’am_

**08071954**  
_you have nothing to apologise for, jikachu_  
_felix sounds like a nice boy_

Jisung doesn’t believe in God, but thinks fate or something similar may have had something to do with their meeting. She tells her own story, of her sister that’s faced a lifetime of secrecy and hardship because of the woman she loves. 

Information comes in slowly, lagged by the time it takes her to type and Jisung’s shitty connection. But she gets it. She understands. She doesn’t think any worse of Jisung for who he is.

**jikachu**  
_ur the 1st person ive told_

**08071954**  
_thank you for trusting me, jikachu_  
_may the new millenia be kinder to you and those like you_

With that, she disconnects. 

Jisung can no longer hold back the tears of relief.

\------

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_u wont show me a pic_  
_y?_  
_i bet ur cute_  
_jisung?_  
_jisung r u k?_  
_sorry if that was weird_  
_u can just forget it?_

**~*~J15UNG~*~**  
_FUCK_  
_sory_  
_dad wanted 2 talk_  
_im not mad_  
_its k_  
_but im not cute_  
_really_  
_ur not missin out on much_

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_show me a pic_  
_nd let me decide_

**~*~J15UNG~*~**  
_maybe next time_

\------

Chan has the Slipknot album playing in the car. 

He’s swung by Jisung’s house on the way to the park on the off chance that he’s free, and Jisung just so happens to have an empty slot of time between waking up and going to work, and would love to spend it falling off his board while kids laugh at him. 

Changbin is at work, his hours picking up after his promotion, so it’s just the two of them. 

It hasn’t been just the two of them for a really, really long time. 

Chan has always been this untouchable goal, someone to idolise and revel in the presence of. Jisung grows older and realises the age gap between them. Jisung turns twenty and realises he barely knows Chan at all. 

“You’re quiet,” he turns down the music. It’s still loud, but Jisung can finally hear himself think. “Wanna tell me what’s up?” 

“Just thinking.” 

“About?” 

“Life.” 

There’s a hickey on Chan’s neck. Jisung doesn’t even know the name of the girl that gave it to him. Either she’s too unimportant to mention, or Jisung doesn’t belong on Chan’s need-to-know list. 

Or both. 

“You can, like, talk to me about shit, you know right?” Chan’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel. It’s almost accusatory. 

“You don’t talk to me,” Jisung replies quietly. “We don’t talk to each other, not about this shit.”

“It’s too heavy, I don’t wanna bum you out with my shit,” his fingers rub at the mark on his neck, absentmindedly. 

“Maybe I don’t wanna bum you out with mine, either?”

“‘Sung...”

“Dude, I don’t know what to tell you?” Jisung exhales, trying to calm his nerves and the shaking of his hands. “That I grew up wanting to be you, but now it’s the last thing I want?”

“Snap,” Chan mutters weakly. 

“I mean, I wanna be _me_ , not _you_ ,” he scrambles to clarify. Chan itches at the mark on his neck like he’ll draw the bruise out with his fingernails. “There’s nothing wrong with you, but it’s just not...me…”

“There are lots of things wrong with me,” Chan laughs. It sounds empty, broken. Like it’s the only sound he can make to stop himself from crying. “Heavy, dude, it’s fucking heavy.” 

“You’re all fucking that and it’s been hard to live up to.”

“Are we not… friends?” Chan pulls a hand up to wipe at his eyes. Whatever he’s got going on, this mustn't be helping it at all. A shitty topping on a God awful sundae. Jisung suddenly feels overwhelmed with guilt. “When people said I was your idol or whatever, I thought it was a joke. Like psych, he’s just a younger friend, we’re totally kidding.” 

“We’re friends,” Jisung reaches across the console to where Chan’s hand rests on the gearstick. He covers it with his own, the first kind of affection they’ve shown each other in years. “We’re not the same, but we’re still tight, you know? We can be that… if you want.”

Chan takes hold of his hand, squeezing softly before letting go. He changes the gear in contemplative silence, but picks Jisung’s hand up again when he’s done. 

“Wanna practise inverts with me?” he asks. 

Jisung smiles. “There is no one I’d rather break my arm with.”

Slipknot still plays loudly in the background, and Jisung is starting to get the hype. The irony of a song titled spit It Out playing while Jisung does nothing of the sort is hardly lost on him. But they’re good, they’re fine. They’re friends. 

No hero worship, no more following the leader. Just friends. 

Chan helps Jisung bandage up a particularly nasty scrape after an equally as nasty fall, but he makes sure to pat it a little too hard when he’s done, laughing at Jisung’s wince and laughing harder when Jisung joins in. 

It’s nice. 

Jisung cuts through a different part of the skate park when he leaves, intent on carving his own path

\------

It’s weird, the way that Felix is so important to Jisung and yet none of his friends knows that he exists. Or maybe they do. Maybe they’ve met the kid with freckles somewhere along the line and said nothing, because he’s got nothing to do with Jisung. 

Maybe they’re friends with him too, having met in the same way. 

Or, the more likely that they’ll think that Felix a creep and that Jisung is dumb for putting himself into that situation to begin with. They’ll get upset because Jisung is off doing things they wouldn’t do, without them.

Jisung has been doing a lot of that, lately. Chan seems okay with it, with Jisung trying to be a little more of himself. Changbin encourages his newfound search for individuality, even though Jisung himself doesn’t exactly know what that entails. 

But he has made a decision about his own life that hasn’t come from the direct influence of what Chan’s done and what Changbin is currently doing. For the first time in his life, he’s taking matters into his own hands. 

It feels good. 

It feels like freedom.

He’s been speaking to Minho about film school, what it entails and what he can do to transfer. There’s one in their city, the one that Minho is a semester off graduating from, so it’s not like he’ll have to move or anything. In fact, the campus is just a short board ride away. 

He doesn’t know what he wants to do with the degree once he has it, but he’s been toying around with his parent’s old video camera and playing with shorts and lighting, has an inkling on where his fancy is going to take him. 

“You’d be a good cameraman,” Minho agrees through a mouthful of fries. They’ve stopped in at McDonald’s on the way home from work, with Jisung finding a tired-looking Seungmin manning the window at the drive-thru. 

Small world. 

Smaller city.

Jisung wonders how long until it all closes in on him, bringing Felix right into his circle. 

“It feels like I’m abandoning Chan or something,” Jisung confesses. “I think he went a little postal when I told him I didn’t wanna be him anymore, or whatever.” 

“That would hurt to hear.”

They’re sitting on the roof of Minho’s car, right there in the car park, feet resting against the windscreen. It could damage it, but the car is older than the both of them, and has seen its fair share of damage, wear and tear.

“Like,” Minho crumples his paper bag and throws it through his open window. “You’re all idol worship and then you’re all not. He probably thinks something is wrong with him.” 

“There isn’t, I told him that,” Jisung shrugs. “If he’s got shit going on, it’s not because of me.” 

“How your friends react to your shit shows what kinda friends they are,” Minho pulls a pack of gum from his jacket pocket. The combined taste of artificial grape and Mcdonald’s fries must be awful, but he chews away despite it, contemplating. 

“I got shit too, man.” 

It would be so easy to tell Minho. Just them and the parking lot lights, a secret confession, buried beneath the pile of trash on the floor of Minho’s old car. 

“Everyone’s got shit, loser,” Minho punches him gently on the shoulder. “That’s what growing up is. You just compile shit and work until you die. Welcome to the party.” 

“You are so old and wise,” Jisung clasps his hands over his chest. 

“I’m twenty-two.” 

“You belong in a museum.” 

“And _you_ ,” Minho jumps from the roof of his car, landing gracefully on the pavement below. Jisung doesn’t even try to copy him. “Are not the Indiana Jones you think you are.” 

“You’re right,” Jisung grins. “I’m the heartthrob lead in a teen movie, and you’re my trusty sidekick.” 

“Get in the fucking car, Ferris Bueller,” Minho pops his gum. “Or you’re walking home.” 

Jisung’s eyes widen at the threat before he scrambles to comply. 

Minho still waits for him to get home safely, but this time it doesn’t feel quite so anxiety-inducing. 

\------

**~*~J15UNG~*~**  
_i did it_  
_spoke to my folks_  
_starting film nxt sem_

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_omg u did it_  
_thats fucking tight_  
_proud of u_  
_dont forget me when ur famous_

**~*~J15UNG~*~**  
_i cld never 4get u_

\------

Chan takes a nasty fall. 

Nothing breaks but his ankle is sprained and his ego bruised, so he’s out of commission for a couple of weeks. He still turns up to the park to watch, and word has gotten out about his new job at a local school, so the kids are flocking to meet their cool new teacher. 

Parents come along too, his fan club increases. Chan spends half his time flushing red under all the attention, while Changbin and Jisung stop by to laugh at him on occasion. 

It means a little guilt, as well. There are more hickies on his neck that he won’t talk about, so at least someone is looking after him, but they’re still off without him. Jisung can tell that he’s feeling a little left out. 

So time at the park still happens, but they’ll peace out earlier than usual, heading home to Chan’s new apartment and playing Super Smash Bros. on his N64 until Changbin gets sick of losing and they pull out whatever alcohol thair scraped together finances can afford. 

Chan hobbles from the kitchen to the lounge with half a bottle of tequila in his hands. Jisung takes one look at it and grimaces. He’s got bad memories attached to that particular brand— too much vomit and the sounds of Hyunjin cackling in the background still ringing in his ears. 

“I’ll pass.” Just the smell of it makes him feel sick, so he reaches for some cheap alcopop that tastes like Minho’s gum, instead. “I had a bad night on that shit.”

“When, you pussy?” Changbin scoffs in disbelief. Chan takes a swig of tequila straight out of the bottle. “We haven’t drunk this shit in months.” 

“I have other friends,” Jisung shrugs, sips at his grape flavoured monstrosity. “And sometimes we drink too much tequila together, it’s cool.” 

“Word? Is it that grunge kid that comes into my work?” Changbin asks, already knowing the answer. He accepts the bottle from Chan and downs a little too much of it. “He wore a Manson shirt the other day, I didn’t figure it’s his scene.” 

“I think everything is his scene,” Jisung muses. Hyunjin is a mess of wonderful little contradictions and eccentricities, an absolute delight to be around when he’s not shoplifting candy from Jisung’s counter. 

“Hyunjin’s cool,” Chan nods, taking the bottle back from Changbin’s greedy hands “I see him around.” 

“I think he gets my name wrong on purpose,” Changbin bemoans, “like, it’s right there on my tag, but he gets it wrong every time he fucking comes in, man.” 

Jisung snickers into his hand. Sounds like Hyunjin. 

“I think he’s, like _friends_ with Jaemin, or something.” 

Changbin thinks nothing of what he said. Jisung stiffens. “I’m friends with Jaemin, too, we were in Chem together back in school.” 

“Yeah, he mentioned something like that.”

No one speaks until Changbin decides that the silence is weird and chooses to break it. “Invite Hyunjin and his crew over next time or something, fuck, make it a party.” 

“You’re down for that?” Chan collapses onto his old, secondhand couch with a grunt, barely managing to avoid injuring himself further. There must be something about his painkillers that makes him even more of a lightweight than usual.

“Fuck you for finding friends without me,” Changbin fakes a sniffle. 

Wordlessly, Jisung and Chan decide that Changbin’s place belongs at the bottom of a tipsy, affectionate dogpile. 

\-------

Jisung is an all or nothing kinda guy. His body is exactly the same. So when Jisung is nervous, his usually bone dry hands become miniature faucets. 

Jisung is also opportunistic, so when the opportunity to face one of his fears comes around, he takes advantage of the nerves to face another one while he’s at it. Changbin is at work, Chan’s at the doctor’s, Hyunjin wasn’t online during the three minutes Jisung was able to get a connection for. 

Which means it’s a very disgusted looking Minho sitting beside him at the piercing shop in their local mall, holding Jisung’s very, _very_ sweaty hand.

“Gross,” he says, pulling his hand free and wiping it on his cargo pants. When he’s not at work he dresses really well, like one of those boyband members on magazine covers that Jisung tries not to compare himself to. 

“I’m deathly afraid of needles,” Jisung finally admits. Minho offers nothing in reply except for his customary eyebrow raise and pop of gum. “Don’t laugh at me.” 

“You’re scared of needles so you’re getting an eyebrow piercing?”

Jisung flushes, hiding his face. His hair falls across the eyebrow in question, and he can feel his hands growing damp, again. 

“Time to man up, I think,” Jisung says, his leg bouncing as they sit on the bench outside the piercer’s room. The shop attendant is watching them with thinly veiled amusement. 

He’s wanted the piercing done for a while, but the fear of needles has kept him from even considering it further than a thought here and there. But tonight he’s doing something scarier than a room filled with needles, and that’s what’s spurring Jisung’s sudden moment of bravery: 

In six short hours, he’ll be on the phone to Felix. 

A random spur of the moment request that Jisung can’t bring himself to regret, he asked for Felix’s landline number and set up a time to talk for hours, hearing each other’s voices for the first time. 

It’s his day of reckoning, and he figures that if he dies from embarrassment during the call, then at least his corpse will look good.

He thinks about Felix with his fluffy blonde hair and his pretty, pretty freckles the second the piercer’s needle pushes through his skin. 

A sharp pinch, followed by a burning throb. Pulling the piercing back through the hole hurts more than the initial wound itself, and Jisung can’t help the pained whimper he makes as it happens. 

The piercer, thankfully, doesn’t comment on the embarrassing noise. 

He hands over the cash with a smile on his face, his eyebrow red and throbbing. 

“Lookin’ good, man,” Minho says. 

Jisung feels nothing short of invincible. 

\------

Jisung feels nothing short of terrified. 

He sits by the phone, waiting. The clock in the kitchen counts down the seconds before Felix is set to call, and he’s thankful that he’s not the one who has to do the dialling. His nerves would have him pressing dial the second the clock hits 7pm, and he’d embarrass himself by looking too eager. 

Or leave it too late and look like a forgetful friend. 

Jisung stares at the phone where it sits on the hook, waiting patiently for it to ring. 

He jumps as it does, shouting “it’s for me!” back into the house so his parents don’t ask any questions, and scrambles for the shrill, ringing device. 

“Hey, uh, it’s Jisung?” 

He flinches at how awkward he sounds, the movement causing a jolt of pain to shoot from his new piercing down his face.

“You…. don’t sound like I thought you would.”

A breathless laugh that Jisugn mirrors. 

“Right back at you.” 

Felix’s deep voice washes over him and Jisung is suddenly glad his family has upgraded to a new, cordless phone, so that he can lie on his bed and blush like a teenager without them questioning him.

It feels surreal, speaking to Felix like this. He’s a voice and a human, not just a picture and some words on a screen. It makes everything feel more real. It makes Jisung’s feelings feel more real. 

Overwhelming, even. He stutters out a breath. 

“I’m nervous,” Felix admits. The reception isn’t amazing in Jisung’s room, so it crackles a bit. He still gets the point. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while, it’s surreal..” 

“I get it, man,” Jisung rolls over, accidentally smashes his sore eyebrow into his pillow with a shout. 

Felix laughs at him as he explains his pain and the reason behind it. It eases the tension a little, makes the call feel like something he’d do with Chan or Changbin, maybe Hyunjin when he’s not off being bored and mysterious. 

“I bet…” Felix swallows. It’s audible. “I bet it looks good.” 

“No duh,” Jisung grins. He almost forgets that Felix can’t see him, nor does he know what Jisung looks like. “You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Come visit me at work or something,” Felix mumbles into the phone. Jisung’s heart stops. “If you want to.” 

“I… maybe… we can meet up or something?” Jisung figures he’ll cross another scary thing off his list while he’s still running high on adrenaline. His hands are so sweaty that he barely manages to keep his grip on the phone. “Or not, but like, only if it’s cool with you?” 

“Totally cool with me,” Felix replies. 

Jisung can’t see him, but he somehow knows that Felix’s smile matches his own. 

\------ 

There are a few reasons why Felix hasn’t seen a picture of Jisung’s face. Firstly, he doesn’t have any recent ones. All the photos he has are from high school, and _that_ was an unfortunate, bowling-shirt clad phase for everyone involved. The second reason is that he’s scared. 

On the off chance that Felix is interested, that could all rescind once he sees Jisung. He knows he’s not unattractive. Pretty girls have been interested in him before, he’s been asked out and flirted with multiple times. He still sucks with girls, and his mother affirms that he’s handsome whenever he’s fretting with a stray breakout in the hallway mirror, but Felix isn’t a pretty girl. 

Felix is a pretty boy. 

And for some reason, that makes all the difference. 

Hyunjin seems to agree with the general consensus, claiming that Jisung is “hot enough” and that Changbin “will do” as the subjects of his newest artistic venture. He’s a _photographer_ now, getting the money for his fancy new camera from God knows where, and deciding he wants to take pictures of them while they skateboard. 

It makes Jisung feel like a rockstar, or like Tony Hawk. To have someone standing at the edge of the halfpipe and snapping pictures of him as he does his thing, it’s exhilarating. It plays a little too well into his daydreams of heartthrob movie protagonist, and Jisung loves it.

His fantasies have changed a little as of late. It’s still the same plot: he’s attractive and going places, he’s well-liked and Minho’s jokes land every time instead of just sometimes. He’s cool, he’s wanted, but that’s the thing— he already has someone. 

The Felix in his mind waits at the bottom of the halfpipe, ready to plant a kiss on his cheek when he successfully lands a wicked trick. Tony Hawk applauds from the front row of the gathered crowd. The credits roll. The critics love it. 

But it’s just a daydream. 

Which is why Jisung makes the most embarrassing and spectacular fall of his life when he spots Felix, flanked by Seungmin and Jeongin, making their way towards the halfpipe and Jisung by proxy. 

“Fuck!” Changbin calls out. He’s on the top side of the pipe, about ready to drop in as Jisung falls and rolls down into the dip. He’s wearing long sleeves so the scrape damage isn't too bad, but the bruising will prove to be a bitch in the coming days. “Jisung, dude, you okay?” 

Flinching at the sound of his name, Jisung notices the way Felix’s head snaps to attention. 

“Yeah,” he wheezes, sitting up. He can already feel the throbbing pain in his side starting to spread. There’s a new rip in his jeans and he’s all but ruined his favourite flannel. At least he didn't hit his head on the way down. “Hella bruised but okay.”

“Stacked it,” Changbin laughs, ruffling Jisung’s hair. “Glad you’ll live, though.” 

“He alright?” Chan calls out. He’s hobbling over as fast as his foot will let him, with Hyunjin starting his own climb into the pipe. 

Jisung is thankful for small mercies, like the rest of the skaters and Hyunjin’s friends staying exactly where they are. 

“I’m fine!” Jisung calls out. He’ll be given a moment to recover, before being introduced to Felix. Hardly the best first impression, but it's the one he’s gonna have to deal with. 

Until his watch starts to beep, his very own saved by the bell moment. 

Shaking off Changbin and Hyunjin’s worried hands, he rights himself and wipes the excess blood and dirt onto the legs of his ruined jeans. The sleeve of his flannel has ripped at the shoulder, so he pulls the entire thing off and ties it around his waist.

He’s still wearing a Korn shirt underneath, so it’s not like he’s stripping. But Jisung keeps his eyes on the ground, anyway, fearful that Felix might be looking. 

Or worse. 

That he might not be. 

His alarm beeps until he silences it, and using the tip of his sneaker he tips his board into his hand. 

“I’m outties,” he says, “I gotta work tonight.” 

“Patch yourself up when you get there,” Hyunjin tries to find a part of Jisung that’s uninjured in order to give him a reassuring pat. He does not succeed and Changbin laughs as Jisung flinches. 

“Will do.” 

Jisung walks off down his usual path, head down and hair grazing across his eyebrows. He doesn’t lift his gaze, nor does he look back, not until he’s safely on the footpath and a good distance away. 

He chances a glance back at the group, stopping at the top of the hill and watching as Changbin and Chan meet Felix before he has a chance to. 

It might be the distance, it might be Jisung’s mind playing tricks on him, but when he looks down he’s so, so very sure. 

Felix is looking straight back.

\------

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_i made sum new friends 2day_  
_my coworker knows them_  
_they wer pretty cool_  
_one had 2 leave early_  
_so i didnt get to talk 2 him_

**~*~J15UNG~*~**  
_thats cool_  
_u had a good day?_

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_yeah_  
_a great day_

**~*~J15UNG~*~**  
_im glad_

\------ 

Toy Story 2 comes into the store and then immediately flies off the shelves. A hot ticket item that Jisung only sees the empty cases for, every copy they can get their hands on hired out before he’s even started his shift. 

It doesn’t stop the owner from requesting that the first film be played on repeat for the duration of the late shift, and Jisung is already halfway through his second, absentminded watch through when Hyunjin walks in. 

He’s brought some friends along with him. 

Hyunjin’s movie nights seem to be for him and him alone, with company being an infrequent rather than a regular occurrence. Tonight is an anomaly, as Seungmin, Jeongin and to Jisung’s horror, _Felix_ , trail through the door after him. 

“Hey, man.” 

He doesn’t expect Hyunjin to speak to him immediately after walking into the store, so his presence surprises Jisung when it really shouldn't. His elbow jolts out from underneath him, and Jisung nearly faceplants into the counter. 

Minho snorts from somewhere behind him. His amusement is punctuated by a pop.

“You know these losers,” Hyunjin jerks a thumb in Jeongin and Seungmin’s direction. “But you didn’t get to meet Felix.” 

“Hi,” Jisung manages to croak out. He should be embarrassed at the way his voice fails, but Felix is smiling at him, because of him, so he internally preens. “Nice to meet you, I guess.” 

“You too,” Felix’s eyes flick between Jisung’s nametag and eyebrow piercing, his mouth widening a little in surprise. “Jisung,” he breathes. 

Felix says his name like a prayer. It makes Jisung’s heart two-step in his chest. 

Jisung notices that his recommendation of the entire Back to the Future trilogy has been added to the pile. 

“I love those movies,” Felix says, watching Jisung unlock the boxes and place them neatly into a plastic bag. 

He knows. They’ve had enough conversations about them, and the concept of time travel, that Jisung doesn’t think he’ll ever see them without thinking about Felix. 

“Me too,” he replies. Pauses. Fumbles. “Duh, I mean, they’re my rec for the week.” 

“I saw that,” Felix smiles at him. Jisung wonders if he smiles a lot or if it’s just because Jisung is around. 

He wonders if he's figured out who Jisung is. He wants to know why he’s not bringing it up if he has. His desperation bleeds into every atom in his being when he hopes that Felix is not disappointed. 

Jisung’s gaze wanders to Hyunjin, who watches the entire scene silently. Arms folded and crossed, he seems almost contemplative. Jisung freezes. It’s the first time he’s been, well, obvious. 

Hyunjin’s strange little mind works in such mysterious ways, with eyes that can read through anything. Jisung has to wonder if there’s a neon sign on his forehead, or if the hearts in his eyes look anything like the cartoons. 

Jisung chats away with Hyunjin’s friends as he works, but Hyunjin says silently contemplative the entire time. He forks over some crumpled cash with a thanks, before leaving promptly, his arms wrapped around the back of Felix and Jeongin’s shoulders. 

There’s a single pack of grape gum that remains on the shelf. 

Hyunjin smirks at Jisung over his shoulder as he leaves.

\------ 

**~*~F371X~*~**  
_u know that cool coworker i told u about?_  
_the new guy?_  
_he invited me to hang out with him and his friends 2nite_  
_so i wont b online_  
_sorry jisung!!!!!!!!!_

Jisung sighs into his pillow. 

Felix is so much cuter in person.

\------ 

Minho’s parents are super cool, which is why he’s still fine living with them. Delightfully upper middle class, they’ve got a pool in their backyard that’s currently empty, preparation for the even bigger pool they’re putting in come Monday. 

Which is why Jisung, Chan and Changbin arrive at his house early Saturday morning, boards in hand. 

They’ve heard about skateboarding in empty pools before, but they’ve never known someone who has had one just lying around. Which is why Minho’s offhand comment becomes Saturday plans for a new kind of fun. 

“Not you,” Minho says. He takes one look at Chan’s bandaged foot and confiscates his board. “You can sit with me in the shade and rest.” 

“I’m fine,” Chan tries to argue. He stomps his injured foot on the ground, hard, and doesn’t even flinch. 

Minho does not relent. “Bandages off or doctors note and I’ll let you in,” he says. “And you have neither, so I hope you like watching me play Zelda.”

Chan grumbles about it, but Jisung spots him with his chin hooked over Minho’s shoulder not twenty minutes later, watching with rapt attention as Minho navigates his way through a dungeon.

The pool is a fun, yet different skate. Jisung spends most of his time zooming up and around the inside, rather than dropping into the bowl. Helps him focus on fine-tuning some more ground-level tricks, and he only runs into Changbin once. 

It doesn’t result in any injury, but it does alert Minho, who stares into the empty pool with a frown. He calls them dumbasses and goes back to his shady spot under the tree, Gameboy in hand and Chan’s head on his shoulder. 

Jisung pulls himself out of the pool and seats himself on the edge, tired from the skate and the sun. Minho presses a cold soda can against his neck and snickers as he almost jumps straight back into the empty pool. 

“For you,” he smiles, purple gum showing between his teeth. “Don’t die of heatstroke.” 

“Where’s mine?” Changbin sticks his head up over the ledge. The commotion catches Chan’s attention, too, who is holding a Gameboy for what Jisung assumes to be the first time> He’s always preferred his N64, and the more mature games that the console offers. 

“Get it yourself,” Minho shrugs, cutting off Changbin’s protests by informing them all that Jisung is his favourite. “We’ve met, what? Three times?” he continues. “Five stamps on your Minho card before I show you hospitality, dude, those are the rules.” 

Chan helps himself to the fridge while Changbin and Minho bicker, coming back with enough cans for everyone. They wander to the shade of the tree in Minho’s backyard, where Minho pulls out a pile of magazines that he’s shoplifted from work. 

“You must know Hyunjin, too,” Changbin points out, already bored of tabloids and celebrity drama. “Doesn’t Jisung know him from work?” 

“He comes in once a week and steals my gum,” Minho shrugs. They both know he does it on purpose. “That’s about all I know of him.”

“Then how come he’s all buddy-buddy with Jisung?” Changbin muses. Minho mumbles something about a shared intellect that earns him a punch to the leg. “Is he like, crushing on him or something?” 

Chan chokes on his mouthful of soda, Minho glances at him with worry and Jisung freezes. 

“It’s not like that,” Jisung tries to sound unbothered and most likely fails. He knows Minho saw him talking to Felix the other night, and thankfully, it’s not mentioned. “We’re just friends.”

“I told you to invite him next time,” Changbin comments, offhandedly. “That time when you stacked it doesn’t count.” 

“Then next time I will, if you wanna see him so bad,” Jisung jokes. Changbin lunges at him. “Besides, I like his friends, they’re mad.” 

“Sick invite, I’ll make sure to come along,” Minho blows an obnoxiously large bubble, laughing to himself as it pops all over his face. “And here I was, thinking about buying us all pizza for dinner. Thought we were friends.”

Chan and Changbin decide that now is the time to obnoxiously shower Minho with affection and compliments. 

It seems to add the last two stamps to their Minho card, because not only does he buy them all a pizza each, he sends them off with leftovers and promises of next time.

\------

“I know it’s you.” 

Felix asks to call. Jisung drops everything to make it happen. Felix proceeds to rip the rug out from Jisung’s feet with just a single sentence. 

“The skater dude? From Blockbuster?” Felix sounds as nervous as Jisung and his sweaty hands feel. “I know it's you.”

“Surprise?” Jisung manages, weakly. 

“You didn’t say anything,” Felix accuses him. He seems more hurt than anything else. “You knew it was me but you let me figure it out on my own.” 

“I was nervous, okay,” Jisung mumbles. “You’re cool, I didn’t make a good first impression.” 

“Your first impression was in a chat room over a year ago,” Felix points out. Jisung can hear him exhale through the receiver. “Nothing can be worse than that.” 

“Hey—” 

“—So you’re _fine_ , dumbass, stop pretending we’re not best friends the next time I see you, okay?” 

“You wanna see me again?” Jisung asks softly. It’s not the outright question of whether Felix is disappointed or not, but it’s the closest thing he can bring himself to ask. “We’re best friends?” 

“Of course I do and of course we are,” Felix laughs, “what do you think we were, after all this time?” 

_In love_. 

At least it’s love on Jisung’s end. He can only call it that because it trumps what he felt for Yeji by a scale so large he can barely comprehend it. He thought it was love, then, too, but he’s come to realise that this? What he feels for Felix? It can’t even comprehend. 

“Jisung?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I was wrong, by the way.” 

“About what?” 

The tones of their voices grow quieter with each word spoken, down to the barest of a whisper when Felix replies. “You’re even cuter than I thought.” 

“You too,” Jisung says, finally. 

But only once he’s managed to get his heart started again. 

\------ 

Eight boys in a room is a recipe for disaster, especially when alcohol and Super Smash Bros. is involved. Changbin devises a failsafe way to get everyone neck deep in chaos, and it ends up as a drunken tournament, hosted in his living room because his parents have gone away for the weekend. 

“It’s their anniversary,” he informs them as they file in. Jisung lingers at the back of the group, next to Felix. “They told me to have a party.” 

“I doubt this is the kind of party they were encouraging,” Hyunjin snarks, pushing his way into the kitchen. He spots his favourite brand of tequila sitting amongst all the bottles on the bench, his eyes lighting up. “You’d need more friends for a proper party, but this shit will do.” 

“It’s my house and I can kick you out whenever,” Changbin informs him. He seems to have put two and two together, because he grabs for Hyunjin’s tequila and takes a sip, straight from the bottle. 

“As if that’s gonna stop him,” Felix whispers, for Jisung’s ears only. 

He’s proven right when Hyunjin starts slobbering over the neck of the bottle, making direct eye contact with Changbin as he does so. 

Minho’s gum pop reveals his thoughts on the matter. 

Changbin’s parents are cool in the way that they throw money at him as a form of affection, so they’ve saved his paycheck and paid for the entire night of fun. Jisung wonders if he wants more friends and has demanded the inclusion of the people Jisung knows as a way to compensate. 

But that’s heavy shit, and it'll just bring down everyone’s night if he asks about it. 

Besides, Jisung has a point to make, and a boy to impress with his gaming skills. He’s adamant that he won’t come in last in their little tournament, and he’s going to focus all his energy on making sure he comes at least 7th.

(He comes dead last anyway, but it’s okay because it’s Felix who wins it all, and his happiness is worth more than bragging rights ever could)

Minho forcibly removes the controller for Hyunjin’s hands when it looks like he’s about to take the brawl from the screen and into the room, and proceeds to wipe the floor with what remains of Changbin’s character. 

It’s enough to consider the re-match over, with Hyunjin and Minho meandering towards Changbin’s TV unit. Inspecting and dissecting his choice in films and music. He and Chan follow to defend his choices, which leaves Jisung on the couch with Felix and Jeongin. 

A Jeongin who promptly demands that Seungmin, who has been inching closer to the commotion by the TV, joins him in the kitchen for a refill. 

There is enough space on the couch for Jisung to move. Once forcibly shoved into each other’s sides due to Chan and Minho’s flanking, they could shift to opposite sides, put a little room between them. 

But Felix makes no effort to move, and Jisung decides he likes his position exactly where it is. 

They smile at each other, small and in secret, as their friends bicker. 

“Is Jeongin even old enough to drink?” Jisung manages to ask. It’s something to talk about, breaking the silence between them. 

“Absolutely not,” Felix grins. 

Jisung offers a cheers of his disgusting alcopop to the idea of underage drinking. 

Hyunjin exclaims in triumph, having found something suitable to watch in the background while the rest of the alcohol flows freely. Jisung is absolutely delighted to learn that it’s Scream. 

A personal favourite, not only because of the plot, but because of the cast. He’s absolutely enthralled by anything Matthew Lillard touches, and his poor bisexual heart thinks the combination of Skeet Ulrich and Neve Campbell as a couple is incredible. 

Despite one of them being a murderer, of course. 

Once, Jisung would have wondered who he would rather be in the scenario: Neve who gets to kiss Skeet, or vice versa. 

But he’s got a cuddly, drunk Felix at his side.

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

\-------

For the first time since he discovered the internet, Jisung is starting to spend more time off it than on. The main reason for his addiction has been Felix, for the most part, and now they can spend as much time with each other as they want. 

Felix has a car, which is handy. It means he can make the trip across town without having to rely on busses, or skateboards and taxis for when it’s too late and they’re not running. It means they can spend as much time together as they want, because they can just drive around, sit and talk, without potentially waking anyone up. 

Jisung can play the mixtapes he’s spent days downloading and making, just for them to listen to while they talk shit and enjoy each other's company. He doesn’t do anything cliche, like bare his heart and soul through the hidden meanings of the tracks. 

But that’s mostly because the bands that Jisung listens to aren’t exactly known for their feel good love songs, and he wouldn’t know where to find a song that isn't depressing, even if he were suddenly to find bravery. 

Everything about Felix is comfortable. From the smell of his car to the conversation that flows easily between them, often extending into the early hours of the morning. Jisung has lost count at how many times he’s slipped into the house long after the sun has started to rise, avoiding his father’s complaints from the kitchen as he wakes while Jisung goes to bed. 

They don’t do anything in particular, except chewing a hole in their wallets with a combined cost of petrol and late night McDonald’s trips partly because it’s 2am and they’re hungry but mostly to sit idly at the drive-thru window and annoy Seungmin with their feigned indecisiveness. 

Sometimes Felix drives them up to a lookout, one that spills over the town. It’s not too high up, but it’s far enough away from everything that it feels like an escape. 

The view is good enough, and they make sure to park right in the middle of the parking lot for safety. The whole place is somewhat of a lovers lane after dark, everyone else finding space in corners and hiding in shadows. Jisung prefers being under the street lights, because he can see the glimmer in Felix’s eyes better in the light. 

The significance of the location isn’t lost on him. The first time they pull up, the silence is filled with a familiar tension. Nothing happens that night, nor any night that follows. It’s as if Felix is waiting for Jisung to make a move.

Jisung could also be imagining things, projecting his feelings. 

He likes Felix a lot, and doesn’t want to ruin the amazing friendship they have, not with a misread scenario or misplaced hand. 

So he sits, enjoys the good music and the even better company. 

He tries his hardest not to lean right over the console and kiss Felix the way he’s aching to.

\------ 

Minho starts stopping by the skate park on occasion. 

It’s not to participate, more to make fun of them or throw stolen goods in their direction on the way home from a day shift. Sometimes he’s there to take Jisung along with him. 

It’s nice how easily Minho has fit within their friend circle. Chan and Changbin certainly seem to think so, offering him their thanks and a wave when he leaves a bag filled with magazines and candy in his wake. 

They flick through the nonsense, and Jisung finds a spark within him. Sudden bravery, like the time he got his eyebrow pierced. His hands are clammy, shaking as he interrupts Changbin’s train of thought. 

“Him,” he says quietly. They’ve been in a deep debate over a celebrity spread, trying to figure out which one of them is the most attractive. Jisung sticks a finger onto the page, right over Nick Carter’s chest. “It’s him.” 

Changbin and Chan grow silent. 

“I, uh, like her too,” his finger slides over to an adjacent picture of Christina Aguilera. “But if I had to pick, it would be him.” 

He punctuates his sentence with a double tap to Nick Carter’s denim jacket. “Yeah.”

And that’s it. 

Out in the open. 

“You’re totally hot for blondes,” Changbin says, after a moment. Chan does nothing except snicker in agreement. 

It’s such a huge moment that should have gone off with a bang, but fizzles out like nothing spectacular at all. Of the countless reactions, the dozens of worst-case scenarios he’s imagined, not once did he stop to think that his friends might just be cool with it. 

“Hyunjin?” Changbin questions, noticing Jisung’s silence. “He’s… uh... Blonde, too.” 

“Hold the phone,” Jisung raises a hand in pause. “You think I’m into _Hyunjin_?”

“You’re not?” Chan questions. He tilts his head to the side in confusion, like he can’t wrap his head around the idea that Jisung is decidedly not into Hyunjin. At all. “I thought you were crushing hard.” 

“On _Felix_ ,” he groans. He remembers that Felix is also blonde and groans again. Changbin is right, he’s hot for blondes. 

“Seriously?” Chan squeaks. 

Jisung sighs, centres himself. He’s got a long, long story to tell.

\------

“I’m wearing your jacket.” 

Felix has this unfortunate habit of saying things that take Jisung completely by surprise, but only when offered the distance and the detachment of a phone call. Jisung resists the temptation to drop the phone to the floor, grab the nearest pillow and scream straight into it. 

“Um, cool?” 

“It smells like you.”

Jisung draws in a harsh, ragged breath. 

He’s come out to Chan and Changbin, so what’s one more person? He musters all that bravery and bravado from a few days before, to the best of his ability. He should say something to Felix. Right now, on the phone, hidden under the protection of a distant and detached phone call. 

“Sometimes,” Jisung swallows the lump in his throat. “Sometimes you say things, and I don’t know what you mean.” 

“What kinda things, Jisung?” 

He pauses, gathering his wits and his thoughts before he spills them down the phone. “Sometimes it sounds like you’re flirting with me.”

“Sometimes it sounds like you’re flirting with me, too.” 

Felix isn’t wrong. Jisung puts down as many awkward, intentional comments that he feels like he’s picking up. He hopes he’s not wrong. He throws caution out the second story window and tries to be brave. 

“I know.”

He hears Felix’s inhale. 

“Tell me you mean it, Jisung,” Felix whispers, softly. He speaks so softly that the microphone barely picks it up. “Please.”

“I mean it.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Jisung,” Felix pleads, “no take-backs on this. If you’re about to say _not_ then please, just hang up instead.” 

“Can I tell you that I love you, or would you rather me say it to your face?” 

Felix makes a surprised noise, it echoes Jisung’s own emotional turmoil. Stupid. _Stupid_. Coming across too strong when he doesn’t even know what—

“Say it to my face,” Felix replies. “And I’ll say it back.”

Jisung goes to bed that night the happiest person on the planet. 

\------ 

Nothing changes and yet everything is different at the same time. 

Jisung and Felix are still attached at the hip, a recent development that their now combined friend group seems to have accepted rather quickly. The story of how they met spread from Changbin to Hyunjin to everyone, even Minho being filled in on how ridiculous it all was before long. 

About their relationship, that’s less of an announcement and more of a slow trickle of realisation through them all. 

Seungmin catches them making out in the parking lot of his work, a quick kiss, turning something more, wandering hands in the backseat of Felix’s car. 

He tells no one, because it’s not his secret to tell. 

Hyunjin sees them holding hands, Chan high fives him after a kiss on the cheek. 

Minho, always to the point, simply asks if Felix is his boyfriend when he starts driving Jisung home, instead. 

Changbin and Jeongin have the unfortunate story of walking in on them while in Felix’s room while his parents weren’t home. Jisung has never heard someone scream so loud, nor so high pitched. 

To this day, he’s still not sure if it was Jeongin or Changbin. 

(Their parents still don’t know they’re dating) 

Jisung has a feeling his mother is at least somewhat aware, having passed on an incriminating message from the answering machine, one that ended with Felix declaring his love and making kissy noises down the phone. 

She doesn’t seem to mind. His father makes an effort to mention any equality articles he reads in the newspaper. They don’t really understand, and he knows it. They’re not talking about it, but they’re trying. 

And that’s all Jisung can ask for. 

“One more?” 

But maybe there are other things he can ask for, instead. 

Felix smiles at him under the streetlight, and pulls him into a kiss. 

\------ 

New Year's Eve comes around in a surprisingly fast manner. Jisung blinks and the final hours of an entire millennia appear before him, and he’s spending it with the best group of people. 

Chan’s apartment plays host, a live countdown to the end of an age or the end of the world rolls in, depending on who you ask. 

“I’m just saying that Y2K is a possibility,” Hyunjin argues. Changbin makes a retort about computers not crashing when daylight savings rolls around. 

Jisung thinks that Hyunjin just enjoys arguing with Changbin for the sake of it. 

“We’re about to find out,” Minho mutters, pointing at the screen of Chan’s shitty TV. They’ve tried to fix the aerial with a coat hanger and it only barely works. 

The countdown starts from ten, and Jisung laces his fingers with Felix. They’ve got proper champagne for the event, a gift from Minho’s parents and poured into whatever cups that Chan has lying around the house. 

_Happy New Year_!

The clock strikes twelve, the new Millenium rolls in, the world still turns. 

Jisung kisses Felix square on the mouth, right in front of their friends. 

It’s not the big movie ending that Jisung daydreamed about, but it’s his ending, and his new beginning. 

The year 2000 has a lot to live up to, Jisung thinks. Because 1999 was one hell of a year.

**Author's Note:**

> There were supposed to be side pairings but my multishipping ass couldn't pick so they all got written out, and little hints got written in. Consider it a Choose Your Own Side Pairing adventure. 
> 
> You may yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/texaschansaws) if you'd like.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Like a Movie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28429365) by [higayimdad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/higayimdad/pseuds/higayimdad)




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